The Scarecrow could not get out of the room fast enough.
First, there was the pain, which struck him as soon as he awoke. He let out an involuntary hiss as he first bent his burned arm, reaching for the long cut on the other. Trying it the other way was no better, as the split in the skin on his left arm, hidden under a layer of bandages, sent a strong sting through him as he moved the limb. He frowned- this was certainly going to be a problem.
It was only then that he noticed another complication: as he sat up, listening to the intercom and wondering why Landel was back and repeating himself, he realized his outfit had been changed. No longer was he wearing the military outfit with the tight shoes and buttoned shirt and confusing hat; instead, it was back to the smiling shirts and grey pants. It wouldn't have been a cause for concern if he hadn't spent the previous day insisting he was fine to most everyone he knew. It'd be hard to convince anyone— especially Depth Charge— of his well-being when both arms were so heavily and obviously bandaged. There was nowhere to hide them with the short sleeves, and—
Depth Charge! Oh, if he woke up and saw the bandages, he'd spend the whole day worrying! The Scarecrow shot out of bed, his feet tangling in the sheets and nearly sending him to the floor. He caught himself just in time to stumble to the door, where he was greeted by his nurse and the soldier who had been keeping an eye on him the past day or so. The soldier, oddly enough, was dressed like one of the nurses, though it was clearly him. Landel on the intercom again, saying things which the Scarecrow recalled from the week before, and the return of the smiling outfits and the soldiers in disguise, same as in Doyleton— what did it all mean? Was the General trying to change things back to the way they were? That didn't seem to make sense, but—
The Scarecrow's thoughts were cut off a second time as his arms ached sharply. He froze, gritting his teeth as both arms reached for each other at once, only to make the sensation far worse.
The nurse couldn't help but give him a pitying look. Reminding him that she'd be changing the bandages on his burnt arm throughout the day, she handed him two cups: one with water, the other will tiny capsules— "For the pain." With no choice but to trust her (she had been rather good to him the entire time), he took both cups, swallowing the contents of both.
And moments later, he was following the soldier-turned-nurse into the Sun Room. He'd opted to go there instead of the Chapel— it reminded him too much of Abe, which led to thinking of his other missing friends. After a quick glance at the bulletin board (he wasn't sure how he was going to write well with his injured arms, if bending them was giving him all sorts of trouble), he found a seat near the wall where he could watch the rest of the room. He sighed as he slid down the wall and hit the ground with a thmp. How awful to start the day so melancholy!
no subject
First, there was the pain, which struck him as soon as he awoke. He let out an involuntary hiss as he first bent his burned arm, reaching for the long cut on the other. Trying it the other way was no better, as the split in the skin on his left arm, hidden under a layer of bandages, sent a strong sting through him as he moved the limb. He frowned- this was certainly going to be a problem.
It was only then that he noticed another complication: as he sat up, listening to the intercom and wondering why Landel was back and repeating himself, he realized his outfit had been changed. No longer was he wearing the military outfit with the tight shoes and buttoned shirt and confusing hat; instead, it was back to the smiling shirts and grey pants. It wouldn't have been a cause for concern if he hadn't spent the previous day insisting he was fine to most everyone he knew. It'd be hard to convince anyone— especially Depth Charge— of his well-being when both arms were so heavily and obviously bandaged. There was nowhere to hide them with the short sleeves, and—
Depth Charge! Oh, if he woke up and saw the bandages, he'd spend the whole day worrying! The Scarecrow shot out of bed, his feet tangling in the sheets and nearly sending him to the floor. He caught himself just in time to stumble to the door, where he was greeted by his nurse and the soldier who had been keeping an eye on him the past day or so. The soldier, oddly enough, was dressed like one of the nurses, though it was clearly him. Landel on the intercom again, saying things which the Scarecrow recalled from the week before, and the return of the smiling outfits and the soldiers in disguise, same as in Doyleton— what did it all mean? Was the General trying to change things back to the way they were? That didn't seem to make sense, but—
The Scarecrow's thoughts were cut off a second time as his arms ached sharply. He froze, gritting his teeth as both arms reached for each other at once, only to make the sensation far worse.
The nurse couldn't help but give him a pitying look. Reminding him that she'd be changing the bandages on his burnt arm throughout the day, she handed him two cups: one with water, the other will tiny capsules— "For the pain." With no choice but to trust her (she had been rather good to him the entire time), he took both cups, swallowing the contents of both.
And moments later, he was following the soldier-turned-nurse into the Sun Room. He'd opted to go there instead of the Chapel— it reminded him too much of Abe, which led to thinking of his other missing friends. After a quick glance at the bulletin board (he wasn't sure how he was going to write well with his injured arms, if bending them was giving him all sorts of trouble), he found a seat near the wall where he could watch the rest of the room. He sighed as he slid down the wall and hit the ground with a thmp. How awful to start the day so melancholy!
[Free]